The Price of Happiness
by Fireskin
Summary: Hobb's life as a shopkeeper ended when Draugr destroyed everything. Now, living life as one of the bandits who saved him, he's run into a young wood elf who unrepentantly shows him that there is a life beyond crime. Perhaps it will take the shopkeep, rather than the fighter, to will bring his deliverance.
1. Chapter 1

THE PRICE OF HAPPINESS

Chapter 1: The Merchant's Eye

A deep growl was all it took to dissuade the thief whose hand inched towards an unwary pocket. Well, a growl from a towering mass of well armed muscle that happened to catch sight of the larceny in progress, anyway.

As the ne'er-do-well slank back into the faceless masses that thronged the marketplace, others grimaced as they moved out of the way of the grim faced giant that stalked through their midst. Perhaps it was his height that frightened them. Or perhaps it was the story of the death bringer tattoos that graced his face and body these days. Or, most likely, the hints of tragedy that blew before him in whispers and averted faces.

It nearly made Hobb smile… which would have destroyed the carefully crafted mystique he'd been cultivating here. He was certain that they had decided that his careful glances and piercing stares were set to find his next prey. To destroy the ones that had destroyed him all those years ago. To search for any hint of insult or disrespect. Hobb the Lost, they called him sometimes. Or Hobb the vengeful. Or, in the darkest of nights, Hobb the Deathbringer.

But he knew who he really was. Hobb the Shopkeep.

The bandits who had saved his life when the daedra had taken everything dear to him had called him this name and it was as true as anything else in his changeable life. Even now, the habits of a lifetime of merchanting had been impossible to break (and, if they were honest about it, very useful to the bandit group). The piercing stares and careful glances were actually caused by his detailed (former) shopkeepers evaluation of the value and quality of the goods set on display around him.

His long stride paused a moment so he could surreptitiously take in the glorious sheen on a truly fine bit of Dres silk. Out here in the wilds of Reapers March he hadn't expected to find something of such quality.

Should he ask?

Would that destroy the mystique that kept others from challenging him?

Even though he'd learned well from those bandits that had become his new family, he still hated fighting. He didn't shy away from it any more and had done his fair share of bloodletting this last decade. But… where others celebrated their conquests and bragged of their bloody deeds… he just couldn't bring himself to join in. Each life could mean someone else grieving as he had grieved for Marta. A silent prayer went up to Kyne with each dying breath he brought about.

"Grant them peace and mercy, great lady. And forgive me for this necessity."

He moved to pass the tempting silk, and found his steps bringing him right back to it's siren call. Ah well. Clearly it was meant to be. Hopefully he was scary enough that he could get away with this one bit of indiscretion.

He attempted a grim smile. "How much for the Dres silk...the turqoise one?" The shopkeepers eyes widened in fear… or perhaps avarice… that one of the Deathbringer bandits should ask about his wares. But before he could answer, a commotion drew both their attention away from the impending barter session.

"Did you just try to rob me?!"

The young voice sounded more surprised than fearful. As he turned, he saw why. A wood elf maiden stood, hand clenched firmly around the wrist of the same struggling thief Hobb had growled at earlier. She likely didn't need his help, but the habits of his former life had proven difficult to forsake in the chivalry arena as well. He ambled over to the non-frightened woman and the struggling rogue.

"Oh my friend, Wood Elves are a dangerous folk for all their lack of height. I think you are in a bit of trouble here. Perhaps you will be her dinner." His big voice drowned out her next question as two pairs of surprised eyes flew up to his face.

With an approving nod, he noted that the young ladies eyes didn't stay surprised for more than a moment. It was his turn to be surprised, however, as she turned back to the thief with a harrumph.

"If you are that desperate, you should have it. Here, you keep my coin purse and get something to eat."

Ghian smiled at the thief whose mouth was literally stuttering in silence. Had her heart not been heavy with grief, she might have laughed as the thief backed away, bowing thanks over and over, slipping into the crowd.

She turned to the man who'd stepped in to help, smiling up at him and said, " Thank you, sir. It would have been a sad meal indeed if I'd had to kill him. He was mostly bone." Then she laughed at the look on his face and turned to walk away. She did, however, turn back again to look at him. There was something about him. Something beside the fact he was very handsome. She hoped whatever darkness haunted his eyes didn't last long. She certainly didn't understand why that thought made her sad. She guessed things these days were mostly sad to her.

With the opening of the Summerset Isles by Queen Ayren, her path to sadness had been set. Set by her own curiosities and her tiring of the Valenwood, her home. Ghian craved more, wanted to see more. She never expected what came though.

The moment she stepped into Shimmerene, a whirlwind of danger, intrigue and love even, caught her up, blowing her about like the storm it was. Nocturnal was going to pay. That bitch would be at the end of her bow and die as horribly as her beloved Ritemaster had died.

Shaking now with anger and grief, Ghian looked about for a quiet, isolated place. The tears were coming with a vengeance. She just wanted to go home; back to Bangkori. Seeksz had sent word she'd found the ever blooming flowers they'd been looking for. Those flowers would sit in the chair Iachesis favored. The place they'd perched for hours just talking and enjoying each others company. The place he'd taught her so much. The place they'd begun to plan a future in. Then, she thought of the man she'd met earlier with the haunting eyes. She knew there was sadness in those dark, handsome orbs and it gutted her as much as her own pain, so she cried for them both.


	2. Chapter 2 Buying Time

Chapter 2: Buying Time

"The Trolls Toothpick they call this place? Perhaps they'll use my bones for a toothpick once they've finished devouring the rest of me. They're strong bones. Do you think they'd make a good toothpick?" Hobb wondered to himself.

Unfortunately out loud to himself apparently as the similarly bound bandit next to him glared with an expression of disgust mingled with terror.

"How can you joke at a time like this?" Hurdig (so named because his temper got him latrine digging duty more often than anyone else in the DeathBringers), shifted uncomfortably against the chains that bound his arms and legs as if to draw attention to his plight.

ONLY his arms and legs, Hobb demonstrated with silent sarcasm by drawing the other bandit's attention to the heavy mass of chains that bound nearly every available inch of his own body. "And now you have assumed that I am joking. Do you not think my bones would make good toothpicks?"

The chain cocoon that enveloped Hobb had been in direct response to the amount of blood he'd spilled among the (other) bandits that had surprised them in the tunnels. "It will be easy pickings!" His now dead leader had stated with glee when he'd presented the plan to the group. "Trolls are slow and nearsighted. We can get in, grab the treasure and get out with nary a notice. And if one does notice us, well, we are a sturdy group and can easily take down a troll!"

What they hadn't been able to take down were the scores of opposing bandits that had apparently thrown their lot in with the trolls. As they'd poured out of every available tunnel, slaughtering all within their wake, Hobb had fought and fought and fought for these people who had saved him all those years ago. Which brought him back to the here and now and the titular 'death' of the last of the DeathBringers.

"Shor's bones! You'll get their attention with all your bleeting!" Hurdig's voice was little more than a vehement hiss. "They've already eaten Mor and Bindern."

Hobb sighed before responding. Bindern was no loss to the world, but Mor had been a better sort...for a bandit. At least their deaths had been swift. "And the Trolls will eat us too, sooner or later. Would you rather suffer from hunger and thirst and fear before they eat us, or would you rather die quickly?"

"I'd rather not die at all, you hulking fool!"

"Well, unless you expect someone to rescue you, I think you won't have much choice in the matter." Hobb's gaze finally gained a steel to it that had the other bandit looking away from him. "That is one of the pitfalls of being part of a murderous group of criminals, you know. There are not many who are inclined to save us."

"Then I suppose you may want to stop being part of a murderous group of criminals." The familiar feminine voice was the first event of this unfortunate series to send Hobb into a surprised silence. As he turned to face the tiny figure, she leaned back, unalarmed, against the wall facing the two bandits. "So that I am inclined to save you."

For all her calm demeanor, Ghian was as surprised to see Hobb as he was to see her. Even though it had been months since their encounter at the market, his hulking form and tattooed face were eminently recognizable.

She still mourned… perhaps she would always mourn the Ritemaster, but finally the lonely walls of her keep had become too closed for her open spirit and she'd gone out into the land about her. She'd been hearing of the dungeon nearby and had come looking for evil to destroy in an endless torrent of rage at Nocturnal. A rage searching for a focus now that she'd defeated that particular monster. A defeat that hadn't dimmed her rage and sorrow one iota it seemed.

And she'd found _him_. Was he evil? Something in her heart shuddered at the thought that this sad man was someone she could be willing to destroy. But he was a bandit she'd learned as she'd listened from the shadows. A murderous bandit by his own admission.

"Well don't just stand there girly! Let us free and we'll reward you handsomely!" The other bandit's words would have been commanding if it weren't for the squeak of fear at the end. It made her laugh inside.

"Ah, but I can't free murderous bandits." The falling expression on his face made her laugh outside as well while the heavily chained Nord next to him just shook his head in disgust. "Hurdig, seriously, you aren't worth the air you breath." As he turned his gaze back to her, however, she could see the piercing focus of his eyes. He knew she wasn't going to leave them there.

With a rebellious cock to her head, she stood to face them. She bet he didn't know this though. "However, if two men in need gave me their oath on Kyne's name that they were _former_ bandits and would no longer be involved in such things...I may be persuaded to save your sorry hides."

"YES YES I promise I will never engage in banditry again!" The nord named Hurdig's promise was fast and loud.

Her market acquaintance though, he watched her with a considering gaze for a long, silent moment. When he finally spoke, his words bore the weight of conviction.

"I swear on the blood of my wife, Marta and the spirit of our great lady, Kyne, that I will never, from this day forward, engage in banditry or other illegal practices.

Funny how that sincerity lightened her heart. "Well then, lets get you two out of there."


End file.
